Kids and Kitties
by A Tye
Summary: We've all read about someone taking Harry away from the Durselys, but this one is a bit different, or at least someone different.
1. The Begining

People have explored lots of ways for Harry to be taken from the Dursley's, but I think this one has been missed.

**Kids and Kitties** Chapter 1 

     We all know why two Hogwarts professors were at number four, Privet Drive, the night after the dark lord first fell.  

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle.  They're the only family he has left now."

"You don't mean – you can't mean the people living _here_?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four.  "Dumbledore – you can't.  I've been watching them all day.  You couldn't find two people who are less like us.  And they've got this son – I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets.  Harry Potter come and live here?"

We all heard the arguments, saw Dumbledore's wisdom, Hagrid's affection, and McGonagall's worry, and we all know how it turned out.  Harry was found by his aunt and uncle and raised in the cupboard under the stairs.  But what if someone had done something a little bit different?  Nothing large, nothing momentous, but a small little something that changed things nonetheless.

Hagrid had made his tearful goodbyes and flown into the night, and Dumbledore had wished Harry luck before disappearing with a swish of his cloak.  Calm once more descended on Privet Drive, the picturesque normalcy of the street disrupted only by the bundle of blankets resting on the steps of number four.  The stillness did not remain unbroken for long however.  Only a minute passes before a tabby cat came padding back out from under the bushes, although admittedly the cat was soundless enough that no one noticed its intrusion.  

Professor McGonagall had never one for showing sentiment in public, well, once she had finally gotten past that embarrassing adolescent period anyway.  Nothing undermined your authority quite like being a weepy witch.  However, just because she disliked making a spectacle of herself, she was hardly lacking in the gentler emotions, and so McGonagall couldn't help but stay to make a private and more personal goodbye to the little boy.  Settling down quietly next to the bundle of blankets, the tabby cat gazed at the sleeping face of the boy, and blinked back tears that looked odd in her feline eyes.  After making a little noise that could have been a sob, or a sigh (it's hard to tell with cats) the venerable tabby nosed closer to the boy and very carefully, very gently, gave him a lick on the cheek.  As McGonagall pulled back to look at Harry one last time before leaving, she was surprised to see him open his eyes and look at her.  Those sleepy green eyes became even more relaxed upon seeing her.  "Kitty" Harry mumbled, and reached out one tiny hand to pat her paw before going back to sleep.

McGonagall stepped back, shaking her head and trying to suppress tears, which admittedly was an odd gesture for a cat.  She suddenly remember the stuffed cat with markings remarkably like her own that she had sent Lily and James for Harry's christening during one of her rarely shown bouts of humor.  Before they had gone into hiding, Lily had mentioned that Harry had taken to the toy, and that 'kitty' had been one of his first words.  How could she leave such a wonderful boy with such unpleasant people?  With what was obviously a feline sigh, and less than dignified shake of her fur, the transformed professor started away down the drive, knowing that Dumbledore usually knew best, and that she had better get back soon if she didn't want to find Gryffindor tower in ruins, blown up by celebrating students.  "I'll just have to come back and check on him once everything calms down a bit."  With that thought, the mottled cat disappeared into the night.

 'Once everything calms down a bit,' turned out to be a much longer time than McGonagall had previously hoped.  The wild celebration she found upon returning to Hogwarts had admirably lived up to her expectations, as well as her fears for that matter.  In fact she only barely stopped a group of excited second years from setting off what must have been every available firecracker in Gryffindor tower in the middle of the common room.  No common sense some people, almost half of the blasted things had been muggle crackers.  Someone could have been killed.  The wildest of the celebrating died down after a few days, but the reckless enthusiasm, lingered on.  But this was at least uplifting trouble, far more worrisome was the new sharp undercurrent of fear in wake of the news of Sirius Black's massacre and his subsequent arrest.  Some of the students where acting as if the expected death eaters to burst out of the woodwork at any second, desperate for one last evil act.  The ministry wasn't doing much to help, with the haphazard trials, and the incredibly contradictory and inflammatory rubbish being printed in the Daily Prophet. 

The world was living in a state of simultaneous jubilation and terror, and unfortunately as the world goes so goes Hogwarts.  McGonagall could hardly find the time so sit down with a cup of tea, let alone take a night off.  It was the first day of the Christmas holidays before McGonagall could in good conscience think about leaving the school, even for a short amount of time.  For the first time since the rise of the Dark Lord almost all of the students had gone to spend Christmas with their families.  The small handful that was left were mostly students who had lost their families during the war and had nowhere better to go.  

Professor McGonagall was in her office, straightening up the last of her paperwork for the day before heading out to make the long trek to the edge of the apparition wards.  She had already made arrangement with Sir Nicolas to keep a close watch on the two remaining Gryffindors for the night.  With a sigh of satisfaction she put the last of those blasted progress reports in the enchanted filing cabinet that would duplicate them and deposit them in the appropriate files throughout the school.  A marvelous invention that.  She remembered when they were all stuck using self-copying quills or carbon parchment.  Although the cabinet did jam up occasionally and drop a pile of extra copies in the faculty loo for some reason.  

Coming back to herself, she muttered, "Wool gathering, what am I coming to," and started out to the edge of the grounds.  It was a relatively warm night for December, although warm might be a wildly misleading term, and the walk was quite pleasant, if a bit long.  McGonagall felt slightly guilty for not having told Albus where she was going, but she was quite grown by now and didn't have to make an account of her comings and goings.  Besides she had a sneaking suspicion that Dumbledore knew exactly where she was going anyway, but would ignore it as long as she didn't call attention to it.         

It wasn't much later that evening that a tabby cat was seen slinking its way towards number four Privet Drive.  Or would have been seen if anyone had been watching that is.  She didn't have to slink of course.  No one was likely to suspect a house cat after all, particularly at this time of night, but after putting up with as many cat burglar jokes over the years as she had, she was allowed the occasional indulgence in fancy.  As long as there where no witnesses at least.  After a quick perusal of the downstairs windows to make sure the bedrooms where indeed upstairs, McGonagall scaled a nearby tree with all the grace of, well, a cat, and not even an arthritic one at that.  "The benefits of healthy living I suppose," she thought while scrabbling out onto a branch that ran along side the house.  

The first window she checked reviled the snoring forms of Mr. and Mrs. Dursley.  McGonagall was amused to note that Mr. Dursley seemed to be valiantly trying to inhale a bit of lace from the cuff of Mrs. Dursley's disturbingly ruffled flannel gown.  The next rooms were a well-stocked playroom and nursery respectively.  Unfortunately the nursery contained only that horrible Dursley boy, who unlike most babies resembled less a sleeping angel, than a sleeping hippo.  Worry was starting to spread out from that place between McGonagall's shoulder blades.  After accomplishing the bit of gymnastics necessary to check the last room, an empty guest room decorated in the most appalling shade of mauve, the now very tense tabby ended up sitting on the back stoop.  Well there was nothing for it, she was simply going to have to go inside and check more thoroughly.  

After a quick check for any watching muggles, McGonagall transformed and muttered a hasty "Alohomora," before entering the house.  Once inside she could hear a vaguely disturbing noise.  A fission of something awful shot up her spine when she made it out as crying, soft, exhausted crying.  The kind of sound a baby might make after it had been crying for a very long time.  Fiercely suppressing the maternal panic that sound evoked, she rapidly pinpointed the noise, which was, to her horror, coming from a cupboard.  With a speed that would make any auror proud, she drew her wand and hissed "Alohomora," with no thought to waking muggles.  The door swung open with a bang to reveal Harry Potter, hungry, dirty, and exhausted, sitting on a cot surrounded by the same blankets he had been delivered in.

*********

Tears welled up in McGonagall's eyes, but whether they where inspired by sadness or fury was hard to tell.  Trying to stay calm so as not to upset Harry further, she knelt down inside the cupboard and did her best to smile reassuringly at him before reaching out her hand to gently brush his hair.  The boy's cries had been reduced to soft, whimpering sniffles as he stared up at the professor.  "Don't be afraid Harry.  I'm just going to make you more comfortable," she said, as she began to cast a selection of cleaning charms on him and his blankets.  Harry watched her wand movements, his fascination almost enough to make him forget his discomfort.  After a few moments McGonagall mumbled, "That's the best I can do short of a good washing," before casting a mild warming charm.  "I'm going to pick you up now Harry," she said before doing just that.  The comfort of being relatively clean and warm not to mention being gently held, relaxed Harry enough that he fell asleep almost immediately after McGonagall climbed out of the cupboard, despite his hunger.  

Standing in the middle of a muggle kitchen McGonagall stared at the tiny boy as she rocked him gently.  He looked too pale, and perhaps a bit thinner than she though he should be, but his face was just as sweet as she remembered, and his cut had healed into pinkish scar, just as Albus had said it would.  She touched his forehead gently.  What kind of monster would want to hurt such a sweet boy?  And more pressingly, what kind of monster would shut him in a cupboard and ignore him?  Settling Harry a bit more comfortably against her shoulder, she began to pay a bit more attention to her surroundings.  Apparently for all her noise she hadn't woken the muggles.  What kind of monster indeed.  She was tempted to wake them anyway and turn them all into something unpleasant, as she was particularly gifted at transforming people into invertebrates, but as doing so would certainly wake Harry, her better sense won out.  With one last outraged glare at the house in general, and a internal promise to do something about those awful people later, the professor and her small charge disappeared into the night.

Of course they didn't really disappear, as apperating with another person, especially a baby, was far too dangerous for anyone with any sense to attempt.  So after swaddling Harry carefully in his blankets, Professor McGonagall, one of the most powerful witches in Britain, proudly raised her wand, and summoned the bus.  The Knight Bus wasn't crowded and no one looked at her twice when she asked to go to Hogsmeade, although the attendant was a bit chatty.  Thankfully the trip passed without incident, and before long the unlikely pair found themselves standing in Hogsmeade square.  The walk back to the school was uneventful as well.  It had gotten colder, unsurprisingly, as it was now about three in the morning, so McGonagall stopped to check the warming charm on Harry's blankets.  Harry seemed to still be comfortable.  One small hand had wound itself into the collar of her robe and she could see the tiny puffs of steam as he breathed softly against her.  For a moment her faces softened completely, in a way she hadn't allowed it to in years, and she softly kissed his forehead, much as she had done as a cat months ago.  "I'll take care of you little Harry," she whispered before steeling herself for the last leg of her journey to the castle and the confrontations waiting for her after that. 

**************

The familiar warmth of Hogwarts as she stepped through the doors into the faculty cloakroom, almost immediately began to loosen the tight knot of emotions she'd rather not look at that had been lodged in McGonagall's chest from the moment she had heard that quiet crying.  Of course the halls of Hogwarts where hardly what anyone could call warm in any literal sense, as in winter they could only really be thought of as less chilly than the weather outside.  Temperature aside, Hogwarts had always had a sort of presence, as if all of the lives and all of the magic that had passed through it's halls had sunk deep into the stones and created a living echo, which McGonagall could only describe as warmth.  At times she fancied that if you listened closely you could hear the hum of thousands of voices.  

As much as being in the castle again may have comforted McGonagall, Harry was starting to grow restless.  While he hadn't yet woken up, he made a small whimpering noise and tightened his grip on the trim of McGonagall's robe, his face tightening slightly into a frown.  McGonagall hesitated for a moment, looking down at the tiny frown, and fingers clenched desperately on her robe.  She knew that she should go directly to the Headmaster's office, considering how dramatically she had disobeyed his wishes, and the number of provisions that would have to made for Harry before the morning.  But, even as she thought about this, Harry made another whimpering sound and burrowed closer to her shoulder, his frown becoming a bit more pained.  "Oh, bugger the old coot, it was his idea to leave Harry with those slimy excuses for muggles," she thought, before heading off to the kitchens.  She knew as hungry as Harry probably was, he wouldn't sleep much longer despite his exhaustion, and food might help keep him calm and comfortable, despite the furor that was likely to go on later tonight.  

Once inside the kitchens the pair was quickly surrounded by several house elves.  One house elf, who was wearing a napkin on her head as a kerchief along with her tea towel, curtsied to the professor.  "What can we be doing for you Professor McGonagall, sir," she asked.  

McGonagall smiled thinly at the house elf.  "Ah, Tinky, I need something for Harry here to eat, I think just some warm milk for now, a soft blanket, and four or five old towels."  

"Right away, Professor McGonagall, sir," said Tinky before her and the other elves surrounding the two of them disappeared about their business.  Sighing slightly, the professor settled down on one of the benches next to the fire and shifted Harry to her lap.  She was in good shape, but she wasn't as young as she used to be and carrying a sixteen-month-old baby around for hours was tiring.  Harry had finally woken up completely after screwing up his face and giving a short cry in his sleep.  Once he had rubbed and blinked open his eyes, he muzzly peered up at McGonagall.  She smiled softly at him and settled him a bit more comfortably in her lap.

"Hello there Harry," she said softly, while smoothing a hand over his hair.  Harry whimpered, but didn't seem inclined to cry now that there was someone holding him.  "We'll get you something to eat in a minute Harry, don't worry."  Even as she said this, she noticed a short procession of elves, who placed a low table beside her and put a large tray on top of it.  Harry was so fascinated by the house elves, that he seemed to completely forget his discomfort.  Reaching out, he was just able to pat Tinky's shoulder as she straitened the tray.  The elf in question smiled at him and wiggled her ears, causing Harry to giggle.  She beamed at him, before her eyes widened.

"Professor, sir, is that Harry Potter?" Tinky asked, her eyes as wide a sausers.

"Yes it is Tinky," McGonagall said as she inspected what appeared to be a bottle one of the elves had transfigured.  A quiet murmur went up among the house elves as they crowded closer to see.  Looking up sharply McGonagall said, "His presence at Hogwarts must be a complete secret.  No one can know that I've brought him here or he could be endangered."

"Don't worry Professor, sir, we is protecting Harry Potter, we is staying silent."  Tinky smiled tearfully, "Harry Potter, sir.  We is very grateful for him."  She and the other house elves bowed deeply, Tinky's nose actually touched the ground, before retreating to the far side of the kitchen.  By this time, Harry had lost interest in the elves and was looking mournfully at the bottle in McGonagall's hand.  

"Ah, hungry are you?" said McGonagall, having determined that the bottle was indeed correctly transfigured.  Apparently at least one of the house elves had had experience taking care of children before.  Shifting Harry to comfortably lean against her arm, she offered him the bottle.  "There now, that's better isn't it," she said, repressing the urge to coo.  Seeing that Harry was settled with his bottle for the moment, she turned to the pile of towels.  Taking out her wand she deftly transfigured a few of them into a serviceable sleeper, and a fresh diaper.  Turning back to Harry, who had stopped drinking for the moment to watch her, she smiled and set him back to his dinner.  Looking over at the tray the house elves had left, she smiled slightly at the pot of strong tea, and small plate of biscuits that they had included.  She managed to pour herself a cup without disturbing Harry.  

Picking up one of the soft biscuits, she offered it to Harry.  "These aren't good for you at all, but at this point I suppose it can hardly hurt anything."  Harry looked up at her while she spoke, before turning his attention to the treat.  He took it rather hesitantly before doing his best the cram the confection in his mouth whole.  "We'll have to work on table manners, I see," McGonagall chuckled.  It wasn't long before Harry had finished his bottle, and most of the biscuits as well.  He had hardly finished before he was yawning and rubbing his eyes sleepily.  Quickly McGonagall set about getting him into cleaner clothing.  With a bare minimum of fuss, a good bit of wiggling and a few charms, Harry was changed, dressed, and wrapped up warmly in the clean blanket.  After disposing of the less pleasant parts of Harry's former wardrobe, and sending his blankets off to be cleaned, McGonagall transfigured the remaining towels into a baby sling.  After settling Harry in the sling, she took a moment to watch him doze off.  A strange expression fluttered across the gray haired professor's face, both gentle and fierce.  "It will be better Harry, if I have to fight every wizard in Britain to do it, I'll make it better."  With that whisper and a wry smile, McGonagall and her charge set off for the headmaster's office.      

 *****


	2. Dumbledore

Revision 2.0

Kids and Kitties Chapter 2 

Minerva McGonagall had found the Halls of Hogwarts to have something comforting about them from the first time she had stood in them, waiting for her sorting.  Despite how dark and chill parts of the castle could be, and how frightening some of the statues and less pleasant painting seem to a child at night, she had always felt at home when she was there, even when she was scared out of her wits.  There was always a hum in the air, not one that you heard, but one that you felt, in your ears, behind your eyes, or under the soles of your feet, it was always there.  It was that hum that made the castle feel like a home, even when you happened to run into a boggart in dungeons after curfew.  The feeling came not only from the magic of the place, but its life, and that life called out to every life within its walls.  Minerva had often imagined that the hum was the echo of all the voices that had ever spoken and all the feet that had ever traversed the halls, as if every the life that had passed through the castle's halls had left an imprint, a residue that had given the place a life of it's own, and ever laugh, whisper, cry still floated on the air, and every set of walking, running, or skipping feet still left it's vibrations in the stone.  Minerva could never feel completely alone in Hogwarts.  

However during this trip the halls seemed quieter than usually and McGonagall was drawn less to idle speculation on Hogwarts'es aura and more to memories of being sent to the headmasters office as a reticent first year after one of her more embarrassing infractions.  Despite Dumbledore's amiability and her own long standing friendship with him it was often hard not to be intimidated by the prospect of his disapproval.  He was after all the most respect wizard in the world for reasons aside from his impressive collection of chamber music.

The trip to the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office seemed both terribly long and amazingly short, or was it amazingly long and terribly short. That aside, despite her nerves and pausing more times that was strictly necessary to check that Harry was sleeping comfortably she did eventually arrive.  Minerva knew that the headmaster would be in his office despite the late hour so there were no more excuses for delay.  

It came as no surprise then when the door to the headmaster's office swung open as soon as she knocked.  Albus was sitting behind his desk going over some paperwork, still dressed in his robes, but with what appeared to be a scruffy woolen shawl in a slightly faded shade of maroon draped around his shoulders.  He set his paper aside and stood to greet Professor McGonagall.  "Ah, Minerva please come in.  I'm sure you and Mr. Potter have had a long day, so please make yourselves comfortable.  Would you like some tea perhaps?" he asked after Harry had been settled to sleep in a nest of pillows in an armchair near Fawks who seemed curious about the tiny addition to his domain, and Minerva had been ensconced as well. 

"No, thank you Albus.  There are pressing matters to discuss.  Something must be done about young Harry."  Minerva settled Harry a bit more comfortably as he stirred slightly at the sound of voices.

"Ah yes, young Mr. Harry Potter, it is good to see him again." Albus said while smiling genially at the boy and setting into the armchair across from the pair.  Minerva gave a slight huff of irritation.

"Yes it is Albus, but what do you intend to do about him?" she asked intently.

"I had already done what I intended to, as you well know.  I'm not quite sure what you expect me to do now."

Minerva stiffened in her chair and sputtered slightly, "Find him a home of course!" she said, coming as close to glaring at the headmaster as she had since the time he spelled her robes pink during a horrid valentine party someone had thought to throw the faculty.

"He needs someplace where he will be safe and taken care of."

"He was someplace safe.  Leaving Harry with his blood relatives allowed me to set up some of the strongest wards in the wizarding world around Harry.  Not even Hogwarts is as safe for him, and, although the Dursleys are not the most pleasant of people, Harry will not come to any real harm there."

"Harm Albus?" McGonagall snapped drawing Harry closer to her, "Define harm Albus.  I found him locked in a cupboard, hungry, dirty, and crying because he was to miserable to sleep, but to tired to do anything else.  I would consider that harm."  Harry whimpered slightly as her raised voice almost woke him, but she was quick to sooth him.

"It is true I hadn't expect quite that sort of behavior from them, but it not something that can't be worked around.  I should think it should be too hard to intimidate Harry's Aunt and Uncle into more appropriate behavior."

"I suppose so, but what about the emotional harm?  It is obvious they do not care for the boy, and it is unlike for them to become magnanimous towards him if we force them to act decently towards him.  It's not right for a child to grow up like that, to not know any affection, and it's likely to effect him for the rest of his life."

For the fist time during the conversation Albus's eyes did not twinkle.  "I know Minerva, but I truly have no other alternative.  There is no place safe for Harry in the wizarding world.  He is perhaps the most famous wizard in the world at the moment Minerva.  He is a target for everyone from fame seekers to kidnappers.  More importantly, there are still many deatheaters alive, and if one of them managed to kill The Boy Who Lived they would gain enough infamy to practically set themselves up as the next dark lord, a powerful motivation for the power hungry."  Albus sighed and ran a hand wearily across is brow.  "Harry is an icon now in the wizarding world, and even if he could survive the attentions of wizards who do not realize he is still only a child, he will always be in danger of those who oppose what that icon stands for.  Harry's best chance is in the muggle world, where he can be protected by anonymity, and in his relative's house where he can be protected by powerful magics."

"That can't be the only solution Albus!"  McGonagall exclaimed, trying to keep her voice low enough not to wake the boy in her lap.  "There must be another way."

"If you have and propositions," he said tiredly "I would be glad to hear them."

Minerva was close to tears.  She found herself studing the sleeping boy.  He had curled one hand into the blanket by his face, and his hair had fallen across his forehead, obscuring his scar.  He looked nothing like The Boy Who Lived, just a boy who had had a long day.  Suddenly her expression cleared, and she looked up at Albus, her face falling into a determined expression that Albus had become very familiar with during the war.

"I'll take him."

"If you don't mind me saying so Minerva, I believe you already have, and it has gotten us no closer to solving the dilemma at hand." Albus said seriously, but his eyes were twinkling brightly again.

Minerva looked slightly exasperated at Albus, "I meant of course, that I would raise him."

"A interesting idea, but how do you propose to protect him?" Albus asked, but he was smiling slightly.

"I'm no slouch at defense, and I've faced off against more than a few dark wizards in my time.  You'd be hard pressed to find any Auror who could out duel me, and I can certainly set up some far better than average wards, and you well know it.  While I may not be able to provide the impenetrable defenses that you've set up at those people's home, I'm sure I can defend Harry from any rogue deatheater attack.  Those that are left and scattered and disorganized, they are unlikely to be able to mount anything more elaborate that a few isolated attacks, and terrorizing the populous with the dark mark.  As for the protection of anonymity, you're quit right.  Harry can't live in the wizarding world at the moment, so we will pose as muggles."

"Are you sure you'll be able to do that Minerva.  Many wizards have trouble integrating with the muggle world, particularly as the grow more set in their ways." Albus said with a slightly sly expression.

"You forget, my mother was a muggle and I spent most of my childhood and a good bit of my adulthood in that world.  While it's been a long time ago, I still remember what it's like to live without magic.  I may make a few mistakes, but nothing that can't simply be attributed to eccentricities.  Oh and I wouldn't be insinuation anything about my age if I were you.  You are nearly twice as old as I am."

"True, but I also imagine I'd make a spectacularly unconvincing muggle.  So you mean to play the balmy old woman?  I would have never thought it of you."  Albus said smiling.

"If I have to Albus," she replied raising her chin.

"Are you really sure about this?  You know how difficult it will be."  Albus said seriously meeting Minerva's eyes.  Apparently he saw his answer there, because a moment later he said "I'm not talking about the dark wizards ether, you've resigned yourself to a much greater danger, a toddler."

Minerva smiled "I may not have been able to have had my own children, but I was the eldest of eleven siblings, and I have two dozen nieces and nephews, six grand nieces, and a grand nephew, almost all of whom I've taken care of at some point.  I'm sure I can handle one toddler."  The professor smiled down at her newly adopted charge who a woken up a bit and was blinking muzzly at Fawks who had perched on the arm of the chair in order to get a closer look at the boy.  "I'm sure he'll be a little angel."

Albus smiled.  "I'm sure he will."  


	3. Notes

Floating End Notes:  
  
New Revision of the second chapter  
  
Well I've already started revising what I've posted. I don't know if that's a bad sign or not. I had a review point out that the house elf's called Minerva sir. This was intentional in attempt to imitate the quirky grammatical usages of the elves, but it obviously didn't work as well as I'd hoped. Oh well. Anyway, the second chapter is better now, and there is one more chapter theoretically in the works. Thanks for reading  
  
  
  
Ah, lets see. I actually put up another chapter (while admittedly a short one). I would think that it was a sign of the apocalypse, but it is really just my way of avoiding an paper on transcendentalist literature I'm supposed to be writing, and as this seemed about as far from it as I could get, I naturally simply had to write more of this fic immediately. Anyway, my reviewers have been great, and if it hadn't been for people saying some very nice things I probably wouldn't have written a second chapter. Which actually probably says more about my laziness than anything else, but I'd like to look on it as a reflection of the niceness of reviewers. Oh, and a request.  
  
Please point out my mistakes!  
  
I'm a terrible proofreader, and tips and pointers would be very much appreciated, and taken into account during the endless revision stages. 


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